


Acorn

by writingdetritus



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Growing Up, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingdetritus/pseuds/writingdetritus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli has trouble sleeping and Fíli tries to find a solution</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acorn

**Author's Note:**

> First Hobbit work! Aaa...! My lore on LOTR and the Hobbit is sketchy at best (though I have read the books) so I do apologize. Just a little diddly with some of my favorite dwarves.
> 
> The acorn is a real wife's tale - put an acorn by the window, lightening will not enter a room.

When the pair of them were growing up, Kíli was prone to nightmares much more than Fíli. They slept in the same bed, and Kíli would whimper or groan in his sleep, toss and turn, his brow becoming heavy with cold sweat; Fíli would wrap his arms around his younger brother and whisper a song into his ear, scaring the night terrors away.

Fíli had a suspicion that it was nightmares about Dragons, and more specifically Dragon Fire. Fíli was never quite sure why… Kíli hadn’t even been born until their mother and uncle had been situated in the Blue Mountains, and even then, Kíli and Fíli had only grown up on the tidbits of the horrible atrocity that had befallen Dale and Erebor all by the handiwork of Smaug. Perhaps it was in Kíli’s blood – to remember the Dragon Flames that licked up the mountain side, that melted the gold. But from his mutterings in his sleep and the anguished cries, Fíli had deduced that it was the horrible wyrms that came crawling over the mountains, seeking gold with their greedy eyes. 

One night, still quite young (Kíli was still quite a bit shorter than Fíli at this point) Kíli had begun to cry in his sleep. Fíli awoke, always in tune with his brother, and shook him gently, trying to wake him. After a moment, Kíli opened his eyes, and looked around confused. It was dark, and the skies were stormy.

“You were dreaming,” Fíli whispered, pushing the dark hair from Kíli’s forehead. 

“I don’t remember,” Kíli admitted, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry for waking you brother.”

“It’s quite alright,” Fíli said, lying down on his back, staring up at the wood supports on their ceiling. Their room was not much. A bed, a chest to hold clothes and tools, and a window seat. Thorin slept in the room across from them, so they did not have to be too quiet, but quiet enough that he wouldn’t storm in a bellow at them to go back to sleep.

The Durin line had been sharing a house since they had all been relocated to Ered Luin (of course, Thorin refused to ever call it that – Sindarin was not a language he let pass over his tongue), and Dìs and Thorin had decided it was best for the time being to simply share an abode. Thorin would decide later on this was a bad idea as his nephews grew louder and louder in their discussions during the darkest hours over the course of the years.

Rain hit the window with loud taps as Kíli stood from the bed, rubbing his eyes and walking over to the window.

“Are you not going to fall back asleep?” Fíli asked, lifting his head from the bed.

“No,” Kíli climbed onto the window seat, and hugged his knees to his chest. He had to climb as the seat was too high for him, but he was agile and could manage.

Fíli rolled over, trying to get as much rest as he could. He had just started working alongside his uncle at the forges, and he had been coming home exhausted, unable to pay much attention to Kíli. He knew Kíli was begrudging him this, and that was possibly why he wasn’t sleeping now – he was simply being stubborn. 

The rain came down harder, but Fíli was able to tune it out and fall back asleep.

A clap of thunder followed by a crash was woke Fíli about an hour later. He sat up quickly, grabbing for his knife which he couldn’t find where he had put it last. Kíli stood up from the floor, rubbing his head. He had fallen off the window seat when the lightening had hit a near-by metal spire.

“Kíli!” Fíli hissed, jumping up quickly and rushed over to his brother. “Are you alright?”

“The lightening frightened me,” Kíli admitted sheepishly. “I thought it was Dragon Fire.”

Fíli glanced out the window to check there was no fire that the lightening had started, and then turned back to his brother hand gripped a hand to his shoulder. “Kíli, why do you dream of Dragon Fire?”

Kíli, wide eyed, and with a cut running across his forehead, shrugged. “I just… remember it...."

Fíli sighed and leaned against the window seat, bringing his brother close to him for an embrace. “I don’t want you to be frightened by your nightmares anymore,” He murmured. Apart for the selfish reason of never getting enough sleep, he truly hated seeing his brother jittery and weak from his own mind. During the day, Kíli put up good showmanship, always smiling and causing mischiefs that then Fíli would probably be blamed for. He began to rock his brother, easing his breathing, and allowing Kíli to relax into his arms. Suddenly he remembered an old wives tale. “Kíli, here.”

Fíli pushed his brother away gently, and went over to the chest. Fíli had always been the tidier of the two, though both were horribly disorganized by normal dwarf standards. One thing that always set the two apart was how they maintained their hair. Kíli kept his hair loose and wild – just as his spirit was, while Fíli had his hair plaited and held in place with a metal clasp down the center of his head. He was planning on braiding more of his hair as he grew, and also whatever hair grew on his face when he matured more. He rummaged around, before finding what he was looking for. 

It was a small, metal hair clip with a stamped design of an oak leaf and an acorn. The acorn was what Fíli wanted.

“Hold out your hand,” Fíli said, and placed the clip in Kíli’s palm. Kíli held it up to the window, waiting for the lightening to show what his brother had given him. When he could see it fully, he furrowed his brows and gave a sidelong glance to Fíli.

“What’s this.”

“A clip,” Fíli said.

“I know that,” Kíli rolled his eyes. “But why?”

“See the acorn?” Fíli leaned over his brother’s shoulder and traced one callused finger on the design. “They say acorns keep lightening out of rooms, and so I figure, it will keep fire out of your dreams.”

“No they don’t. Who says that?” Kíli laughed, but his face softened.

“I don’t know who started it, but what does it matter. Wear it always and I promise it will keep the dreams at bay.” Kíli shrugged at his brother and quickly clipped it into his hair, pulling some of the black locks away from his face.

He turned to his brother, and grinned, turning his head so the light from the pale moon that had just shown her face through some clouds glinted off the metal. “How do I look? Civilized?”

Fíli laughed, covering his mouth with his fist. Suddenly there was a loud bang on the door from their uncle. He didn’t even have to tell them to shut it, because they both knew they had made just the wrong amount of noise for this time of night.

Fíli dragged his brother back to bed and pushed him in, before crawling in after him. The rest of the night they slept fine.  
Kíli still had nightmares; they did not magically vanish as if a wizard had puffed them away in a smoke ring. Fíli wish they had. However, the clip seemed to comfort Kíli more than Fíli thought was possible. After a nightmare, Kíli would wake up, reach behind his head and tap to see if the clip was still there and then sigh with relief, settling in and falling asleep again, always close to his brother. It was the combination of the gift that Fíli had given him, and the warmth of his brother beside him that let Kíli rest.


End file.
